


Heaven, Nowadays

by shinymogwai



Category: Chicago (2002)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Implied/Referenced Incest, Might add more chapters later, Mildly Dubious Consent, Only very mildly and mostly for the sake of performance, Post-Canon, because honestly everyone in this show has massive sexual tension with everyone else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinymogwai/pseuds/shinymogwai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Velma has a new idea for the act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven, Nowadays

"My sister and I..."

 _Oh Christ,_ Roxie turned her gaze up at the ceiling. Every time Velma started a sentence like that, there was bound to be trouble. "I ain't your sister, Vel." The bottle-blonde interjected, but her partner, like always, paid her no mind.

"My sister and I, we used to do this _thing_ \-- drove the fellas in the audience _wild!_ ” With a sigh, Roxie sucked down the remainder of her gin, and sat back on the bed. Nothing could stop Velma when she got like this, so she might as well enjoy the show. “We used to-- to sorta, _hang_ on each other...” Velma, always eager to demonstrate, wrapped her arms around herself, running her hands over her stomach, her breasts, her thighs. Roxie watched, in the sort of vague, tingly haze that liked to follow after a few drinks. Velma’s fingers lingered between her legs, and Roxie’s brows rose as the realization, delayed by liquor, finally hit its mark.

“What, like-- like you used to feel each other up?” Roxie forced a laugh, and took a long drag of her cigarette. “That’s-- that’s sick, you were sisters.”

Velma smiled her smug little smile, the kind that Roxie hated, because she always got it when Roxie said something dumb. “That’s the _point,_ kid.” She leaned in close, close enough for Roxie to smell the gin on her breath, to see the smudge in her eyeliner from when she rubbed her eye, and the lipstick on her teeth. “It’s a-- what’s the word-- it’s taboo. Means something scandalous. People eat it up.”

“And--” Roxie started, reminding herself to breathe. “And you wanna do something like _that_ for our act?” She’d seen girls do that sort of thing with the boys they brought on, sure, but two women?

Velma chuckled, plucking the cigarette from Roxie’s fingers. “Sure,” She took a puff, ruby red lipstick smudging the paper. “Why not?”

Alright, so Roxie could see it. Maybe during a crooning sort of song, one could be in the other’s arms. Both dressed in slinky black dresses, shimmering with sequins. Long white gloves that went past the elbow, to contrast as they pressed against each other’s faces, ran up and down the other’s back…

“Show me how it went again?” Roxie asked, in a fog of gin and smoke and her own imagination.

Velma grinned, took one last drag of her cigarette, and pushed the end into the ashtray. “Sure thing, kid. I’d love to.”

Roxie could feel Velma’s fingers on her thigh, the other woman’s painted nails tickling her skin through her stockings. Gently, slowly, Velma pushed the blonde backwards onto the bed, her thumb lingering over Roxie’s nipple, gently pressing and carressing it through the slip. Roxie found herself focusing on Velma’s lips, round and full, the bottom one pressed beneath the top row of Velma’s teeth. The lipstick had been scraped away there, revealing the natural pinkness beneath, paler just under the teeth, where pressure restricted the bloodflow. Velma’s hand found its way between Roxie’s legs, and it honestly didn’t occur to Roxie that she might tell the woman to stop.

It’s not like Roxie had never enjoyed sex. She’d gotten her jollies from plenty of men, and even Amos’s poor, amateurish attempts at lovemaking hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. But laying back on the bed, as Velma’s fingers pressed and pinched in all the right places, it was… _different_. Roxie was vaguely aware that she was moaning, swearing, telling Velma that for the love of god, _don’t stop_. Roxie gripped the sheets with white-knuckled hands as she finished, gaze never straying from Velma’s lips, and when it was done Velma let out a breath that Roxie hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

For a brief, marvelous moment, the hotel room was silent as the two women stared at each other. It was Roxie who broke the silence.

“You wanna do _that_ on _stage?”_

She hadn’t seen Velma laugh so hard in a while.


End file.
